


Arkadia

by semele



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6081756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/pseuds/semele
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy returns to Arkadia for Gina's memorial. (Alternative s3.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arkadia

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I actually haven't seen s3, because I refuse to see it, but I get thoroughly spoiled, and I have been asked by a friend to write a bit of a fix-it fic. So here it is. I haven't seen the scene that I'm supposedly fixing, but maybe that's for the better. My great thanks to Antoniette for her prompt, and to Tammy for her sage advice!

Camp Jaha is loud.

Bellamy can never quite bring himself to call it Arkadia unless he really has to; it sounds like a mockery, an image made ugly by the harsh reality surrounding it, just like Gina used to say. _Some fucking paradise._ At least when they were still calling it after Jaha, they all knew, each in their own way, exactly what to expect from it.

So Bellamy expected harshness. Noise. Guns. Fear.

He knows most of his friends think he fell for Gina because she was quiet, but that’s not entirely true. She wasn’t quiet as much as she made _him_ quiet; gave him an excuse to go softer around the edges, and to smooth himself out if only for a few hours. He isn’t entirely sure what she got out of it, but he knows enough to make an educated guess. The ground is a lonely place, and Bellamy knows he can be sweet if he puts his mind to it. Which he did. Gina was kind, she was honest and brave, and she deserved no less from him.

It feels weird to not be looking for her as soon as he arrives to Camp Jaha; like he was forgetting something important, and wandering aimlessly in search for it, not that he fools himself that he’ll find anything. And it’s his own…

No. He owes her better than making her the focus of him jerking off to his own guilt in a dramatic fashion.

So he gets his shit together, and shows up at the memorial with a straight face; stands between Raven and Lincoln, and looks ahead, shoulders straight and hands resting neatly against his sides, no dirt, or blood, or melodrama. Gina was proud, she was bright and insightful, and she deserves to be said goodbye to with some dignity, so that’s how he does it, eyes dry and lips set, until the adults are looking at him strangely. _Weren’t you supposed to love her?_

No, that’s a lie. They aren’t looking at him strangely. Between one fragile alliance and another, between this crisis and that meeting, they don’t look at him at all. It’s Raven who finds him later, in Gina’s quarters, folding blankets and sorting through clothes, not that she had many. He should’ve been done with this two hours ago.

For some long minutes, there is silence between them, but he can hear that there are thoughts buzzing in Raven’s head, as loud as if she was actually speaking. They have, it seems, been here before; months ago, huddled by the fence, their eyes glued to a pole raised in the middle of a field in a distance. They weren’t quiet back then, either – Raven’s screams filled the distance between them, and made air shake with grief and anger. It was good and it was clean, a howl raised all the way up the clouds, and in every direction around them, burning and healing, and allowing for quietness to settle in the aftermath. 

In Arkadia, you see, there is no place to scream like that. It’s a brave new world, a fresh start, and what doesn’t fit has to be wrapped neatly and covered in silence, where no one can see it.

Eventually, Raven slumps heavily on Gina’s cot, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she can’t stand any longer. Not after that gunshot, and that surgery, and those knives, and that drill, and that goddamned explosion. She slumps and hisses in pain, her leg extended in front of her, and it’s blatantly obvious that she can’t help him just like, once upon a time, he couldn’t help her, not that those situations are exactly comparable. 

“I’m scared,” she tells him quietly, and maybe her open vulnerability is a greater gift than any kind of comfort she could’ve attempted. 

Maybe it’s a dick move on his part, but he doesn’t respond with sharing his own feelings. Raven, like Gina, deserves better than this mess that he has in his head, and she’s not here to give him a moment of quietness. Not when he has nothing to give in return.

What he can do is sit next to her, and put his arm around her shoulders. That’s when he notices that she’s still clutching Gina’s sweater in very desperate fingers, and when she twists her body to bury her face in his shirt, it becomes obvious that Raven wasn’t just looking out for him, but also looking for someone to grieve with her.

 _I did this,_ he’s tempted to whisper into her hair. _This is on me._ But he doesn’t dare to disturb her genuine grief with his dramatics, so in the end, he simply sits with her, one hand stroking her shoulders and the nape of her neck, _you aren’t alone, I’ve got you, you aren’t alone._

Neither of them as much as suggests bringing Gina’s things to the redistribution center. Instead, they take the clothes, as well as Bellamy’s own blankets, and make their way to the Ark, to the makeshift gym where their group normally trains. Bellamy is probably the only one surprised when they find Harper and Miller already there, and soon after they arrive, the room starts filling up; Monty and Octavia, Monroe and Lincoln, and about five or six others, made silent by tiredness, heavy heads and heavy limbs. 

For the next five days, this is where Bellamy sleeps; on a hard training mat, huddled under blankets between Raven and Miller. Gina’s things seem to redistribute themselves discreetly, a shirt here and a pair of shoes there, passed around somewhere between meals and drills, and it’s not quiet, not by a long shot, but maybe it shouldn’t be.

On the sixth night, they bring down the “Arkadia” sign from over the gate, and set it on fire.


End file.
